Unworthy of Elation
by ChallengingStereotypes
Summary: No Alices. Just an outlet for Hotarus' mind
1. Chapter 1

HI! It has been long since I last wrote a story and I am sorry for that! I am back and this time, I brought a bit of some life with me. This story is a bit true and it is just Hotaru venting out her mind. This is a no Alice fanfic and this is not associated with the events with the anime or manga. There will be some smut later on as well as violence and i hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: This is based off the characters of Higuchi Tachibana only. I am the owner of the plot.

Plagiarism is unwelcome.

* * *

Why is it that every single time I do something that I feel utterly proud of, there is always something that brings me down? It's like I just pumped up some Red Bull into my life, enjoying the high and then my descent to the Hadal Zone is the most abrupt piece of shit. Ever. Like can I just freaking enjoy this moment, please?

I know I haven't done anything to be all so deserving of happiness, but come on! A girl needs a break once in a while. I am fifteen years old. I haven't had my first boyfriend or even gone on my first date. The first kiss that I was hoping to be all romantic: leg-popping, heart-wrenching, butterflies fluttering deep in my belly was taken away from me. By my cousin. Yes. My cousin. Long story short they had come home for a weekend and everyone was having an afternoon nap and I slept near my cousin and his mom. She got up for a drink of water or something and I was lazing around. My cousin came closer and then he prodded me but I was tired also and didn't respond. He was at that age where it is all about trying new things. New experiences and watching slice of life bullshit. Ok yeah, good for you dearest cousin who is six years older than me. But he was fifteen at that time. He took that chance and kissed me. I pretended to sleep so I couldn't even push away. After a few tries of slobbering kiss (which let me tell you for a first timer he was beyond ridiculous) he turned and went back to sleep. No fireworks nothing.

I have got a few confessions yes but all the guys found me so damn attractive that they couldn't confess their love for me in person, in fear they might faint with how fucking hot I am. Yeah, four confessions, all boys, one was two years older and pretty much a nice guy but I don't really know why I didn't say yes... Oh wait I do. I have this thing where since my parents think I am too young to date, if I do I will most definitely not tell them and then the guilt will eat me and someone will kill me in my sleep. The other two are in my grade and one seriously has never even got the balls enough to even smile at me in class. The other talks to me but he's all too up in my personal space. The last just thought he was some stud muffin and told me how much he loves me and blah blah. He was the worst. He got over my rejection in a week and started dating another 'true love' within 3 weeks. Pa-fucking-thetic.

I guess you could say I'm a tomboy and I love being one I swear! But there are times when I just want to feel like a girl inside and out. I want to rip off all my hair ties, let my hair loose, show off some leg, glamour myself up and just stun the whole population. I know I seem the kind to be disgusted by all the touchy touch, feely feel emotions stuff but I don't. I like it. I'm just embarrassed that if I confess to wanting it, I would be ridiculed.

I am a girl. I have emotions and I also have crushes. I also despite hoping with all my heart that I have a chance with them, I know it's another joke that Fate plays on me if they return my affections. I am a girl. I want to have a fairy tail life but I also wish for that bad boy roar up by my side, throw me a helmet and ruffle my feathers up a bit. I am a girl. I also want to have a perfect family, with amazing friends, an amazing life and even more amazing children. I want it. No, no, no, I NEED it.

I know everyone looks at me and sees everything to do with mischief and rebel tendencies and pain in the ass and so much more. I am laughing around 90 percent of the time, messing around 100 percent. But no one, NOONE understands what goes behind the scenes, far deep inside my cranium. I could tell you everything and so I shall. I know doing so is an act of desperation. Me being desperate to gain sympathy, comfort, pity. Love.

Hi my name is Hotaru Imai and to whoever is reading this, I beg. Lend me some strength. I will pour out my secrets to you. Pour out my hearts deepest desires, my conflicts, my guilty pleasures, my pain and hope in return all I get is relief. I know I am using you. But I am selfish and yet again, I am unworthy of you. I will tell you all.

I will rant. I will criticize. I will be the biggest goddamn hypocrite. I will be rude. I will be bitchy, overcritical, overemotional, and narrow-minded. I will be belligerent, patronizing, pessimistic and pompous. But, I will be completely and utterly honest with you. No holding back.

I will tell you my story.


	2. Chapter 2

HI! It has been long since I last wrote a story and I am sorry for that! I am back and this time, I brought a bit of some life with me. This story is a bit true and it is just Hotaru venting out her mind. This is a no Alice fanfic and this is not associated with the events with the anime or manga. There will be some smut later on as well as violence and i hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: This is based off the characters of Higuchi Tachibana only. I am the owner of the plot.

Plagiarism is unwelcome.

* * *

You watch these sweet, fluffy movies all about families that stick together and do all these fun things and fight BUT still stay together. I just find it bullshit. No offence to those that have that perfect family that I am just envying. I hate it, honestly. But I so, so, _so _love it. I have those family moments occasionally where I feel like we are in some sort of Disney fairytale but then they just fade off. I am the only child and honestly I have been pampered and given luxuries BUT I just want to be happy. I am not saying a BBM package and an iPhone do not keep me happy, but nothing like some happiness, yea?

Despite how jovial I seem to be, I don't really feel like I get what I give. The only reason I try to make others happy is because I feel if they do become happy, I might get some back with words of solace sprinkled on top. My family consist of just my parents and I. My mom has two older sisters and one older brother, of which I have 4 cousins from her side. Then my dad has one older brother and sister. His other brother passed away and I have six first cousins. Total of ten, out of which none are my age and none I am remotely close enough to call a sibling. I have wanted to have siblings for as long as I could ever remember. Unfortunately, my mother had two miscarriages when I was young.

I have always been mischievous but I don't feel like that is reason enough for me to not be a part of the family. My name may still be attached to the family but in my heart I am nonexistent. I don't feel loved. I know I am not loved. The only family member that I have ever felt anything close to adoration is my grandmother. My dad's mom who may the Gods bless for all eternity because she is the most amazing woman anyone could interact with. She was my pillar of strength and I love her with every molecule in my body. She lived far but we used to go visit her during the holidays and I felt like someone charged me up after years of exhaustion. She used to speak our mother-tongue but I could only speak English. We had a language barrier, but it never stopped us from conversing. We would talk about utterly different things, but it was the bond we shared. It was the satisfaction we had with just being near each other. She used to talk to me and since I never understood, my dad used to sit and translate. She was always concerned for my well-being. It was funny. It was strange. It was something new. I liked it. I felt like I was a significant person now. Sadly, in 2008, she passed away due to stomach cancer. She could not eat and she was 83. It was around the time I was 10 or 11 when I last saw her.

My nana was the most loving creature. My parents used to hit me, you see. All part of the Asian 'I will turn you into a piece of perfection' thing going on then. I was shit scared of my parents and so never told her. But she knew. She used to see marks on me when she gave me a bath or I wore something that didn't cover it up. She always asked me. I knew what she was referring to. She used to point and massage those areas. I was scared of what would happen if I confirmed her suspicions so I kept mum about it. She died and it was the worst thing on the planet. I also feel I must say I am an atheist. My parents are Roman Catholics and I never knew of how important God was and blah blah. I still prayed and did the entire necessary thing. But when my Grand mom died, it was the first time I lost faith in everything and gave up on God.

My dad was not really affected since he was not on good terms with her anyways. But I missed her, like nothing I could ever miss. I used to cry myself a headache and to sleep every night. I used to pray to her only. In the hopes she turned into an angel, and was there watching over me. Like my protector. My Guardian Angel. She was my light, always with a smile upon her graceful features. I loved her, still do and will always continue to do so.

She was the only family I had, and I lost her. It was horrific. I had nightmares for months. Then my dad started getting stressed because it was reflecting in my school work and so on... I was dropping my grades, becoming anti-social and rude. He started getting more violent. Then he started going mentally abusive.

You see, around February 2008 my mom got pregnant and we were elated. It was such a joyous occasion! Everything was going well, my mom was getting stuffed with weird cravings and mood swings galore but we managed. One day in June, around 5th or so I came home from school with a teachers note saying I had not done my geography homework. I was nervous, Dad told me not to let Mom get upset as the baby would get hurt. So I aimed for peace. I came home hid the note that was in my diary by white inking it and then sticking the pages together. At that time it was necessary for parents to check the diary daily and sign when the child finished the work. I did my work and my mom asked for the diary to sign. I told her I didn't write the tasks in the diary and then she got upset so she yelled for the book. I gave it and she opened it. She noticed the thick page where I had stuck two together and one thing led to another she separated the pages, held the page to the light and read the note. Fuckity fuck. I was fucked.

She got mad and blew up. She was screaming at me and hitting me and chasing me around the house. I was getting scared and worried about the baby. I ran to the curtains and hid behind them. When she came at me I pulled them and a statue of Jesus that was on the top fell and broke. She grew horns and a tail. She started screaming at me even more and I got even more worried. I told her to stop screaming and to relax. I fucked up that moment. It was like she turned into a statue herself. She then screamed for five minutes about my insolence and how I don't dare tell her what to do in her house. She calmed down after a while and everything was ok. Dad came home later. I got a bit of some pasting.

Then on 13th June it was the last day of school and school ended at 1300. The bus dropped me home and I ran up. I was excited; the teacher gave me a new book to read. I was an avid reader from young. I burst through the doors and first thing saw my dad at home on the couch. It was queer. He rarely came home for lunch since his break was too short. I asked him what he was home for and where Mom was. She was sleeping. He told me she had a check up that day and he took her. The doctor said she had a miscarriage. I didn't understand. I was too small. I asked. He said the baby was not going to come out alive. I was 11. The baby was 4 and half months. It was a boy. He would have been born on 4th December, 2008. We already picked his name. Zidane. A beautiful name after my dad's addiction to football. I slept near my mom who was still and crying.

All went normal, but then my family was sad. My dad got upset soon and he turned on me. He called me all sorts of things. He said things no 10 year old should ever have to know, hear or be called. I took it. Then he dropped me a Hiroshima bomb. He said I was a murderer and I ruined the only happy thing he could ever have. He said my stunt with the geography homework killed my baby Zidane. I killed him and it killed me inside. I was small but in that moment I felt like the world was placed on my shoulders. Then for as long as I can remember he kept bringing it up.

He always came up with something different by the time I was 13. I was a mistake. It was too bad I wasn't the one who died. It's my entire fault. I don't deserve to live. It would have been better if I kill myself. That's the best I could do for them. I owed them. He said more but I used to try and zone out. It hardly worked. I stopped believing in God here. And then I started again afterwards. Until my grand moms death. I cried for nights. I felt guilty. I lost my brother and ruined the lives of many.

All went normal as could be until next year April. My mom was pregnant again. I was extra careful this time. I made sure I was perfect. I was. Then one day something happened. I dropped a glass. My mom got mad. She lost the second one. It was the 18th of June. I killed two brothers of mine. This was a too young foetus to identify the sex. Too soon to name it. It was two months and 2 weeks. This was my fault too. My mother hardly speaks of it. But my dad rubs it in every time. I can't handle it sometimes. I feel like I betrayed my baby brothers without even meeting them yet. I was horrible.

I already planned out everything we would do together. I would be the over protective big sister that would bully them endlessly. And teach them all the naughty things and make the family happy again. I ruined that. I love them and it breaks my heart seeing the families.

I do not lie when I say I feel something in my chest when I see the families. I am not lying. It is a feeling of utter melancholy. It's nothing like described in books. It ten times worse. With ten times the emotion. I would do anything to change the fate. I would gladly give up my life for my brothers. I would do it if they were alive and pain in the asses as well. I would. Because I love them and my Nana would be proud of me. Till today 5 years later my dad has not yet let it down yet.

I hate him for doing this to me. I hate it. I have felt like killing myself, cutting myself, overdose and almost everything. I do not bring up of the time when I was in 2nd grade and he got angry because I failed a test. He picked me up by my neck. I did not bring this up. He carried me into the balcony like that. I did not bring this up. He held me over our 2nd floor balcony. I did not bring this up. He threatened to drop me if I failed another test. I did not bring this up. There have been thousand other incidents besides this. I did not bring them up either.

But I will be strong. I will not shed tears, nor will I cave in. If I do, it will be in the audience of only my pillows. I know that my Nana and my brothers are watching over me. They are my knights. I will be strong for them. I will make them proud and honour them. I have been ruined. My mind has been ruined past any consoling and recovery but there is naught I can do. I will lift my head. Smile. And if anyone asks. I am perfectly fine. I will not be defeated.

* * *

I am sorry if this is depressing. I will be honest. I am writing what has happened in my life in the form of fanfiction. It is selfish i know, but i kind of want to let it out. For those like me, hopefully there aren't: they know they are not alone and i am there for them. Come what may.

Please Read and Review. Thank you!


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